Blogging
by Lady Dudley
Summary: A Sherlolly spin on series two: Sherlock exercises some content control over John's blog.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: An aside to 'Loose Lips' and 'Tremble' which you don't need to have read, but it might make a bit more sense if you have. Hope you enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

_**Blogging**_

"Don't blog about the bomb."

John looked up from his laptop in surprise, "What?"

"Don't blog about the bomb," Sherlock repeated staring up at the ceiling from where he was sprawled on the couch.

"Why?"

"Molly reads your blog," Sherlock said simply.

John raised an eyebrow, "And that matters because…?" he prompted.

Sherlock glanced at him, "Because she will worry," he huffed, "and I don't want her to worry about me, it's distracting."

"Maybe she'll worry about _me_," John retorted.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, "Why would she worry about you?"

"Because _I_ was the one strapped to the bomb!"

"Oh," Sherlock said dismissively, looking back up at the ceiling.

"Anything else I need to edit for Molly's benefit?" John asked with a trace of sarcasm as he deleted the relevant section.

"No."

"Not even the bits about The Woman?" John teased.

Sherlock thought for a moment, "You could perhaps leave out the part about my being drugged," he said after a moment.

"Too late, Lestrade already showed her the video."

"Wonderful."

"Don't worry, he didn't capture anything compromising," John assured him, going back to updating his blog.

Sherlock looked at him sharply as a faint memory teased the edge of his mind, "Compromising?" he prompted.

"Don't worry, you didn't do anything embarrassing," John said absently, "you said a few things that didn't make a lot of sense, but that's all."

Sherlock nodded and lapsed into silence; dismissing the video as unimportant, but making a note to delete any and all copies of it nonetheless.

"So where did this sudden desire for Molly come from?" John asked conversationally after a long moment, startling Sherlock from his thoughts.

"What?" he snapped, glaring at John.

John looked up in surprise, "I said, 'where did this the sudden desire to protect Molly come from?'"

"Oh." Sherlock cleared his throat, looking back up at the ceiling, "I told you, it will only make her worry."

John regarded him for a long moment, "Is that all?"

"Yes," Sherlock replied shortly, shifting abruptly so that he had his back to John.

John took the hint and let the matter drop, but not before he added it to his own private notes about the relationship between Sherlock and 'his pathologist.'

...

**A/N: My new head canon is that John keeps a secret blog about his observations between Sherlock and Molly. I may continue this along that vein, but for the moment it will stay as is :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Well, I decided I would continue it. This is still set in ASiB and has some tie-ins with 'Christmas Blues,' but again you don't need to have read it. (EDIT: Actually, you might want to so that you understand the stairs reference) Hope you enjoy :)**

"So…do you want to talk about it?" John asked carefully, looking up as Sherlock walked into the room.

Sherlock huffed, pulling his dressing gown closer around his body as he flopped onto the couch.

"That would be a 'no' then," John said drily, taking a sip of his tea and turning back to his newspaper.

"You _did_ mess up my sock index," Sherlock commented accusingly after a long moment.

"You took the cigarette," John retorted, not looking up as he turned the page in his newspaper.

"Molly was there," Sherlock muttered.

John looked up in surprise, "What?"

Sherlock shook his head, "Nothing," he mumbled, turning his back on John.

John frowned, "Ok." He regarded Sherlock for a moment, before setting his newspaper aside and picking up his laptop.

"If you're going to blog about this, I would prefer you left the Christmas party out," Sherlock remarked, his voice a little muffled by the back of the couch.

"I wasn't planning on blogging about any of it actually."

"Good."

John stared at his screen, debating whether or not add the Christmas party to his file on Sherlock and Molly. There didn't seem much point now; he wondered if he should just forget about it all together.

"Home from home," Sherlock grumbled under his breath after a long moment, shifting onto his back.

"What?" John asked, slightly exasperated as he looked up.

"Mycroft."

"Ah."

John waited to see if Sherlock would say anything further, before turning back to his laptop as the silence stretched on.

Sherlock regarded John out of the corner of his eye, "John, you're a doctor-"

"So I've been told," John interrupted absently, his finger hovering over the delete key.

"-if someone fell down stairs, what are the chances of them sustaining a serious injury?" Sherlock continued, ignoring the interruption.

John looked across at him, confused. "Depends, how far did they fall?"

"Not far."

John shrugged a shoulder, "Probably just a few bruises then," he paused, "why?"

"Just making sure," Sherlock replied absently, steepling his fingers under his chin.

John eyed him with a mixture of exasperation and concern, "Uh huh."

Sherlock ignored his scrutiny and John turned his attention back to his laptop, still trying to decide what to do with the file. He jumped as Sherlock suddenly got up and stalked over to the window, grabbing his violin.

John sighed as the melancholy tune filled the room, turning back to his laptop he deleted the file.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I must admit, I'm having a lot of fun with these. Thanks for the reviews! This one is set right after ASiB.**

"I suppose I can't write that The Woman has gone into witness protection," John commented thoughtfully, "how would you like me to end the blog entry?"

"However you want to end it," Sherlock replied, sounding bored as he continued to clean his violin bow.

"Does it really not bother you that you can't see her again?" John asked carefully.

"Why would I want to see her again?" Sherlock asked, looking up from his task.

"I don't know," John admitted, "I…just…" he sighed heavily, "I'm sorry Sherlock. She's…" he took a deep breath and tried again, "she's…"

"-not in witness protection," Sherlock finished, "I know, John," he said mildly, turning his attention back to his violin bow.

John stared at him in disbelief, "You _knew?_"

"She's not dead either," Sherlock continued absently, "I know, I was there," he added, picking up his violin and moving to the window.

"You were…what?" John asked, still in shock.

"Saving her seemed like the right thing to do," Sherlock explained with a small shrug, "but don't put that in your blog," he added, pointing his bow threateningly in John's direction.

"Right," John agreed, looking a little dazed as he turned back to his laptop, "I guess she still needs protecting."

"It's not her I'm protecting," Sherlock muttered.

John looked confused, "Then who-?"

The rest of John's question was lost as Sherlock turned his back pointedly and started to play 'English Rose' on his violin.

John resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he turned back to his laptop, "Impossible man," he muttered under his breath as he resumed typing.

...

**A/N: Yeah, I just don't believe that John would be able to live with the lie he told Sherlock. Sorry if you disagree. Also, he's not playing 'English Rose' (by Jam) for Irene. Just so you know :P**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I wanted to do something to finish of The Woman's part in this properly (and to get John to resurrect his file), it took me _ages_ to get this idea to work in a way I was happy with. I really hope you like it! :)**

"I need a new phone," Sherlock announced, stalking into the flat and flinging the offending piece of equipment on the side table.

John looked up from the book he was reading, "Why?"

"The Woman," Sherlock spat, flopping into his seat, "she's started texting me again."

John raised an eyebrow, "What does she want?"

"The same as always," Sherlock muttered, drumming his fingers agitatedly on the armrests of his chair. "Me," he clarified, catching the look on John's face.

"Oh."

John watched as Sherlock continued to fume silently in his chair, "Couldn't you just tell her to stop texting you?" John asked.

Sherlock shot him a dark look, "That would only encourage her."

"You saved her life," John reminded him, "most women would take that as some form of encouragement."

"_Molly_ was there," Sherlock grumbled as though John hadn't spoken, "she's not stupid, she _knows._"

"The ringtone's a bit of a giveaway," John commented drily. "What a minute, _Molly_? What's she got to do with this?" John asked as what Sherlock had said sunk in.

Something akin to panic flashed across Sherlock's face, so quickly that John wasn't sure that he'd seen it. "Nothing," he said quickly, not meeting John's eye, "but it had an adverse effect on her that proved distracting."

John tried to hide a smile as he regarded Sherlock, "So you're getting a new phone to stop The Woman from texting you because Molly got upset?" he clarified.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, unsure whether there was a hidden meaning to John's question, "Yes," he said finally.

"Ok," John said, hiding a smirk behind his book as he resumed reading.

Sherlock eyed him suspiciously, trying to deduce the source of John's amusement, before deeming it inconsequential and heading out to purchase a new phone.

John waited until he was certain the consulting detective was gone, before setting aside his book and reaching for his laptop.

Perhaps he had been too quick to delete that file after all.

...

**A/N: I have this theory that The Woman opened Sherlock's eyes to the other woman in his life, hence why he's starting to slip up a little here :P**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This one is set after _Hounds_, hope you enjoy :)**

"If you're blogging about the dog, don't forget about Bluebell," Sherlock called out from the kitchen.

John paused in his typing, "Bluebell?"

"The rabbit," Sherlock clarified, swapping slides under his microscope.

"The _rabbit_?" John turned in his seat to look at Sherlock, "I can't write about being strapped to a bomb-"

"You really need to let that go," Sherlock interjected mildly, not looking up.

"-but I _can_ write about some little girl's lost rabbit?" John finished, exasperated.

Sherlock shrugged a shoulder, "It's a case."

"You didn't even take it!"

"I solved it though, didn't I?" Sherlock replied easily, adjusting the dial on his microscope.

John narrowed his eyes, "What's so important about the rabbit Sherlock?"

"It's a detail, I thought your readers liked details," Sherlock replied, his tone holding a hint of mocking.

"In that case, should I add the part where you flipped out?" John muttered, turning back to his laptop.

"It's your blog."

"Don't do that," John ordered, turning back to look at him.

Sherlock looked up, clearly confused, "Do what?"

"Pretend that you don't care what's on my blog," John clarified, "because it's quite clear that you _do._"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sherlock replied, turning back to his microscope.

John regarded him suspiciously, "Are you editing cases for Molly's benefit again?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Sherlock retorted, turning away from John to write something down, "besides, I'm not editing, I'm providing you with more material."

"It's a rabbit!"

"You don't want little Kirsty to find out about her rabbit?" Sherlock asked with mock confusion.

"No, I don't think Kirsty should know that her _mother_ is the one who stole her rabbit," John retorted.

"Suit yourself," Sherlock sniffed.

"Molly wouldn't like that part of the story either," John remarked irritably as he turned back to his laptop.

Sherlock chose to ignore his comment and turned his attention back to the microscope.

"How do you know she even reads this anyway?" John asked absently after a few minutes.

Sherlock shot him a look and John rolled his eyes, "Right, stupid question." He looked at him slyly, "I guess the real question is: why do you care?" he added after a moment, trying to sound casual.

"I told you, Molly is very distracting when she worries," Sherlock replied absently, setting the slide aside and writing another couple of notes.

"Adding the rabbit story has nothing to do with her worrying," John observed, "that sounds more like showing off."

"Yes, well, thank you for your insights, John," Sherlock said briskly, effectively ending the conversation as he busied himself with packing up his experiment.

John smirked as he turned back to his laptop, "Molly Hooper's a distraction all right," he murmured to himself as he switched to the other (newly resurrected) file.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This one is set after the scene in the bathroom with Kitty in _The Reichenbach Fall_ (which is actually a very interesting scene from a Sherlolly POV when you think about it). Hope you like it :) Thanks for all the reviews x**

"You typed up our last case yesterday," Sherlock commented, glancing over at John from where he was lounging on the couch. "What are you typing if you're not updating your blog?" he demanded.

"Just answering some emails," John replied, absently.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, "You don't get emails."

"I get fan-mail from my blog," John retorted, a little offended by his comment, "or rather, _you_ get fan-mail," he amended.

Sherlock made a sound between a huff and a derisive snort as he resumed staring at the ceiling.

"There are two types of fans," he observed after a moment, "Type A: catch me before I kill again and Type B: my bedroom's only a taxi ride away."

"Bring on Type B," John muttered under his breath.

"I thought you said they were _my_ fans."

"Jealous?"

Sherlock scoffed, "Hardly."

"Molly sometimes writes comments," John remarked, watching Sherlock out of the corner of his eye.

"Molly isn't a fan-girl," Sherlock said flatly.

"Not by your standards," John conceded, "but still-"

"All of my 'fans' have one thing in common," Sherlock interrupted, "they are all trying to manipulate me in one way or another. Molly has never tried to manipulate me," he paused, "_Molly_ is trustworthy," he added, although John got the impression he was talking to someone else.

"Is that why you do it then?" John asked after a moment.

"Do what?"

"Edit my blog."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Not this again," he muttered darkly, "I've already told you," he began in an irritated tone, "Molly-"

"-is very distracting," John finished, ignoring Sherlock's scowl, "I know. But why can't you just admit that you do it because you care about what she thinks?"

Sherlock frowned, "Caring is not an advantage."

It was John's turn to roll his eyes, "Not everything has to be an advantage," John retorted, missing the brief note of hesitation in Sherlock's voice and turning his attention back to his laptop. "You'd just better hope that one day Molly doesn't decide she agrees with you and leaves," he added absently with a touch of exasperation.

Sherlock's frown deepened and he turned his back on John with an audible huff; "Molly would never leave me," he grumbled into the cushions.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Still in TRF :) This one is set after the jury has given their verdict/Moriarty has visited Sherlock. Have another couple of chapters up my sleeve, so stay tuned! :) Thanks for all the reviews! x**

"Change it," Sherlock ordered, looking over John's shoulder to see what he'd written.

John frowned as he regarded the screen, "What's wrong with it?"

Sherlock glanced at him, "If you're going to write about Moriarty, leave Molly out of it."

"The jury let him off," John protested, watching as Sherlock continued on his way to the couch, "people should know what he's capable of."

"Molly has no connection to the case or his crimes," Sherlock reminded him as he flopped onto the couch, "leave her out of it."

John's brow creased in confusion, "But she _was_ connected to him."

"Barely," Sherlock muttered, crossing his arms.

"It's a detail," John continued, "I thought you wanted people to know all the details."

Sherlock shifted into a more comfortable position, "About cases, not my private life."

John raised his eyebrows, "Is Molly part of your 'private life' now?"

Sherlock ignored the question and pinned John with a hard stare. "Do. Not. Blog. About. Molly," he stipulated, his tone low and dangerous.

John held his hands up in a placating gesture, "All right, I'll take it out," he said, deleting the passage as he did so.

Sherlock gave a small, satisfied nod before steepling his fingers under his chin and turning his attention to the ceiling.

"What do you think he's planning?" John asked after a long moment.

"I don't know."

"Do you think he will use her again?"

"Doubtful," Sherlock replied absently, "he thinks she doesn't matter."

"But she does?" John asked hopefully, Sherlock's eyes slid towards him, "Is that why you don't want me to blog about her?" he pressed, wondering if he'd finally gotten through to his friend.

"I don't want you to write about Molly because she reads your blog," Sherlock informed him flatly, looking back up at the ceiling, "do you really think she wants to be reminded of that particular romantic catastrophe?"

"No," John conceded, feeling oddly disappointed. "Tea?" he asked after a moment; receiving no response and noting that Sherlock was deep in thought, he left the room to make himself one.

"She does matter," Sherlock admitted softly to the empty room, "and I don't want him to know. He's planning something," he continued thoughtfully, "and it's going to be big. Burn the _heart_ out of you…" he murmured, sinking into his Mind Palace and oblivious to the fact that he was talking to himself.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This is still set in TRF, after the infamous 'You' scene and during the time between Sherlock figuring out 'the code' and John getting the call about Mrs. Hudson. Hope you like! x**

"You know this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been editing my blog."

Sherlock shot a dark look in John's direction from where he sat at the bench in the lab, "Now really isn't the time."

"If you'd let me put in everything about Jim – _Moriarty_ – whatever you want to call him," John continued, ignoring his comment, "then no one would believe him now."

Sherlock's lip curled in a sardonic smile, "Why? Because blogs are so accurate?" he sneered, "People will believe it because they _want_ to believe it," he continued, drumming his fingers on the bench top, "that's what makes it so clever."

"Any particular reason why we're _here_?" John asked after a moment.

"Our flat has been bugged," Sherlock reminded him, turning his attention back to the door, "and the police will be watching it."

"I forgot we were fugitives," John mumbled resignedly as he sat down.

"Besides, didn't you hear?" Sherlock continued, his tone brightening with false cheer, "This is my home away from home."

John sent him a questioning look as Molly came back into the room. Intent on carrying three cups of coffee she missed John glance between her and Sherlock as the latter's mood lifted almost imperceptivity at the sight of her.

"Thank you," John said quietly as Molly handed him a cup. He took a sip of his drink, watching over the rim of his cup as Molly handed Sherlock his; Molly kept her face slightly averted, but John noticed that Sherlock seemed to be studying her intently.

He raised his eyebrows as he put his own cup down; this was new.

"I still say this all could have been averted," John commented after a moment, watching Sherlock for a reaction.

He wasn't disappointed: this time the look Sherlock sent him was murderous, "Still not the time," he warned, nodding his head slightly in the direction of Molly who'd sat down at the computer nearby.

"I'm not saying it would have changed the outcome," John continued pretending not to notice Sherlock's scowl, "but if you'd laid bare _all_ the details, people might be more willing to believe you."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed so that they were almost slits, "If I had laid bare_ all_ the details," he said in an icy tone, "then there would be even more at stake."

John glanced at Molly and then back at Sherlock who merely raised his eyebrows, "Burn the heart out of you," John said thoughtfully, repeating the words Sherlock had been wont to utter over the past few days.

"Exactly."

It wasn't the heartfelt declaration that John had been trying to wheedle out of him for months, but it was as close as he was going to get.

Both men lapsed into silence, recognising the end of their conversation. John took a sip of his drink, noticing Sherlock's gaze shift thoughtfully in the direction of the pathologist. Whatever Sherlock was planning, John hoped it would eventually have a happy outcome.

Maybe then he could publish his _other_ blog.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Pretty sure y'all will work out when this chapter is set ;)  
**

**...**

_**Sherlock Holmes was a fraud.**_

_**How ironic that the 'Greatest Detective' is actually the Greatest Criminal.**_

_**I can't believe we all fell for that Moriarty rubbish.**_

_**Always said he was too good to be true.**_

_**Sherlock Holmes, what a git.**_

John took another swig from the bottle sitting next to him as he continued to scroll through the comments on his blog.

Some of them came from his earliest followers, most of whom had left encouraging and supporting comments in the past. None of them were particularly complimentary now.

Except one:

**Molly Hooper said: **_**Moriarty was real. Sherlock Holmes is not a fraud.**_

John smiled grimly at her comment, poor Molly.

He still couldn't believe that Sherlock had committed suicide, especially after he'd finally seemed to be ready to admit that he cared – possibly even _loved_ – 'his' pathologist.

Now she would never know.

Instead of what he could – _should_ – have said, Sherlock had told him to tell Molly that he was a fraud. Something that John categorically refused to do, he didn't believe that and he never would.

John took another swig of his drink, wincing in sympathy as he read some of the vitriol people had added after Molly's comment.

Sherlock had been right about one thing: people were certainly ready and willing to believe he was a fraud. Though why they had to be so vindictive about it was beyond him; the human capacity to kick a man while he was down was truly astounding.

The man was dead, why couldn't they just let him be?

John wiped the suspicious moisture from his eyes at the thought and, setting his drink aside, pulled his laptop closer.

Sherlock had told him to tell 'anyone who would listen' about him, so he would.

He would tell the world about the _real_ Sherlock Holmes: the most insufferable git he'd even known, who was so intent on proving he didn't care about anyone or anything that he couldn't even tell the woman he loved his true feelings before he killed himself.

At least, that had been his intention; in the end all he'd been able to say was the truth.

...

**A/N: Don't panic, John's blog entry will be revealed in the next chapter - I'm still tweaking it (and at least one more). Thanks for all the reviews/favourites/follows etc. I'm really glad you've been enjoying it! xx**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I know I promised you John's blog entry, but that's not in this chapter (sorry!), I just couldn't resist adding this in. I like to think of this happening at the same time as Chapter 9 and this is based on the premise that Molly helped Sherlock to fake his death and he stayed with her for a little while.**

"What are you doing?"

Molly suppressed a start as Sherlock leaned over her shoulder to get a better look at her laptop screen.

"Updating my Tumblr," she replied, trying to ignore his proximity, with debatable success.

"Your 'Tumblr' appears to be pictures of different men and…" he leaned closer to the screen, "is that me?"

Molly bit her lip, willing herself to disappear, "This is just my dashboard, it shows me what other people have posted and gives me the option to post it as well," she explained, hastily scrolling past the photo in question.

"I see," he said, watching the different images scroll passed. "Aren't you going to post any of them?" he asked, looking down at her.

"Not with you watching," Molly muttered before she could stop herself. She blushed again, mortified, but Sherlock mercifully let the comment slide.

They both froze as several versions of the newspaper article announcing his death appeared, all with various comments attached to them. Most of them negative.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Molly apologised, slamming the lid of her laptop shut, "most of those people were your biggest fans," she added, still sounding apologetic.

Sherlock pulled a face from where he had retreated to her couch, "There are two types of fans," he observed after a moment, "Type A: catch me before I kill again and Type B: my bedroom's only a taxi ride away." He glanced at her, "Apparently neither are particularly loyal."

"They don't know you," Molly said quietly, putting her laptop aside.

"John said people were more willing to believe the lie because I didn't let him put everything in his blog," he said after a moment, "I used to edit it," he added at her confused look.

"I thought you weren't interested," she commented, pulling her knees up under her chin.

"I had my reasons," he told her, his tone a little gruff as he suddenly found the ceiling incredibly interesting.

Molly regarded him thoughtfully, but said nothing, sensing that he wasn't prepared to go into his 'reasons.' Sherlock's eyes slid briefly in her direction and he added her knowing when to be silent to his (steadily increasing) list of reasons that he loved her.

He just wasn't ready to tell her. Not yet.

But he promised himself that one day, once it was all over, he would tell her everything. In the meantime he would enjoy the time he had with her before he left to start his one-man crusade.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: _This _chapter has John's blog entry from Chapter 9 :)**

Sherlock hadn't seen Molly for months.

It was in her best interest, just like his 'death' had been in John's best interest, but that didn't change the fact that he…_missed_ them.

Missed _her._

He sat, heavily disguised, in front of the computer in an internet café waiting for John's blog to load, inexplicably desperate for a connection to the people he had left behind.

He was disappointed to find that John had only made one blog entry for the entire time that he had been gone, but at least it was something.

_**I know many of you have already made up your minds about Sherlock based on what you know or, rather, what you **_**think**_** you know about him. But I knew the real Sherlock Holmes and no one is ever going to be able to convince me that he was a fraud. He was the best man I ever knew and the best friend I ever had. Nothing will ever change that.**_

A small, sad smile graced Sherlock's lips as he read the short entry; a thought struck him and he found himself scrolling through the comments, searching for the only one that mattered.

There it was, barely ten words, but it was enough.

**Molly Hooper said: **_**I believe in Sherlock Holmes.**_

Sherlock felt his chest tighten painfully.

He'd always known (hoped) that they would remain loyal, that they wouldn't believe the lies being spread about him, but something about seeing their words written for all to see touched him deeply.

Especially from Molly; he wondered if she had written it on purpose, knowing he might see it (might _need_ it) one day.

Sherlock signed off the computer and left the café with a renewed sense of purpose.

No matter how long it took he would return to his old life, to John and the others.

But mostly, back to Molly, the one who counted.


	12. Epilogue

**A/N: This is a little epilogue that I wanted to do to round everything off. It's set after Sherlock's return (and he's told Molly 'everything') and before John's wedding, hope you enjoy! Thanks for all the lovely reviews and favourites/follows, I'm so glad you enjoyed this - it was fun to write :)**

_**Epilogue:**_

Sherlock turned his head to watch John as he sat down with his laptop, "What are you doing?"

"Typing up our latest case," John replied absently, turning his laptop on. "I might not have another chance before the wedding," he added, typing in his password.

"I have been meaning to speak to you about your blog," Sherlock said, sitting up.

John sighed heavily, "I had hoped that since Molly became your girlfriend-"

"Intimate companion," Sherlock corrected.

"Since Molly became your _girlfriend_," John repeated firmly, "you'd stop editing my blog."

"I have," Sherlock protested, "or rather, I _will_," he amended at John's surprised look. It was Sherlock's turn to sigh, "Apparently Molly would rather know the worst than imagine it, so you are free to blog about whatever you wish," he huffed, flopping back down on the couch. "You can even blog about Molly," he continued pulling his dressing gown tighter around him, "within reason," he stipulated with a warning glance. "I would prefer your other blog remained unpublished," he added absently, shifting into a more comfortable position.

John blinked, trying to process this latest development, "Other blog?"

Sherlock adjusted the cushion behind his head, "The one you've been using to record your observations about Molly and I," he glanced at John as he shifted again, "quite insightful really, considering you missed several key moments."

"I…what?"

"Your powers of observation are improving," Sherlock told him, "but you still miss a few things," he added, before effectively ending the conversation as he turned his back on him.

John stared at his back for a few moments before resuming his typing, hardly believing his good luck and watching out of the corner of his eye as Sherlock continued to shift on the couch, obviously trying to get comfortable. He was about to comment on it when Molly came into the room, book in hand.

He returned her smile of greeting as he watched her sit down in the space Sherlock made for her on the couch. Turning back to his blog, John hid a smile as Sherlock settled back down, his head in Molly's lap and she started to read her book, absently twisting a lock of his hair.

He continued to type for a few more minutes in silence, before he realised that Sherlock was no longer thrashing about on the couch. Glancing across he was surprised to find that the consulting detective had fallen asleep, further evidence (if he needed any) of just what a good, calming influence Molly was in Sherlock's life.

John smothered a grin as he continued writing his blog, he would have to thank Molly for that later, but for now he would enjoy being able to write his blog in peace.


End file.
